Night Raven Revised
by Rusty And The Rubix Horse
Summary: A young stallion is captured and raced, and will discover new feelings towards those he never thought important to him. Please read and review! My new version of the original Night Raven. Rated for possible violence and language.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Cheez Its? Mine. Black Stallion? Not mine.

Prologue

It was a name that many feared. It was the name of an untamable spirit. It was the name of the great red stallion.

It was the name of a monster.

He won some of the most prestigious races in the country. He was wild and his eyes would always burn with cold fury when he ran. He only wanted to fight.

Now, hundreds of years later, a new stallion has been discovered. He is a descendant of the great red stallion called Flame. He is wild and untamed, just like his ancestor. His eyes burn with the same cold fire as the red stallion. And he is _massive_.

And he has been caught.

Now, the new stallion called Night Raven is known to the racing world. And he may very well threaten the superiority of the great red stallion himself.


	2. First Encounter

Disclaimer: Asparagus is not mine, just like the Black Stallion. Yuck! I hate asparagus!

Chapter One

I still remember the day that I was elected leader of the Briarwood Herd. I was rather young to be chosen, but as I was the oldest, my elders had no choice. Our first leader, Stern Lark, had been "lost" to another stallion's hatred.

I had not had any desire to become leader, fearing often that if I ever did, I would lose nearly all of my mares to the same stallion that had taken Stern Lark's life. He had taken only the best mares, leaving us to fend for ourselves. My mother had been among the ones taken.

Now, I was indeed the leader of my herd, though I had protested continuously. I did not want the responsibility of leading the other horses to fresh water and grass, nor did I want to endanger my life to protect the herd. I guess you could say I was selfish.

* * *

"Raven!"

My head shot up in alarm as I heard my sister whinny to me from a few hundred feet away.

"What?" I whinnied back, shaking my head in annoyance.

"Shifter's run off again!" I simply glared at her, willing her to say she was joking, but, much to my disappointment, she did not. I stamped my foot in anger and trotted off in the direction she was now looking. Shifter was the herd's youngest filly and she was _always_ getting into trouble. I had been leader for almost six months now, and there had never been a day when I hadn't had to scold her for one thing or another. When I reached the top of the hill that allowed me to see into the valley below, I glanced around. There was no sign of the young filly.

Frustrated, I broke into a canter, my head sweeping from side to side, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I half expected her to jump out from behind me and cause me to start (as she did on almost a weekly basis). But she did not. A terrible thought then came to my mind.

Several of the older mares had claimed to have seen cougars in the area recently. What if young Shifter had been run down by one? I threw my head up in the air and turned on my haunches to search the west side of the valley. I couldn't think those thoughts. I had to concentrate.

As I was searching, I thought I had seen a flash of gold to my right. I stopped, looked in that direction, ears pricked forward and listening. Nothing.

Suddenly, something slammed into my side and I fell heavily to the ground. I tumbled a few feet before managing to stop myself and then I looked upward to see a tiny golden filly prancing in circles and squealing with delight.

I heaved myself to my feet and faced her.

"You have toyed with my patience young Shifter," I told her firmly. Her giggling stopped. "I am tired of your constant runaways and even more so of your disrespect for you elders. This _has_ to stop!"

She didn't say anything, but it was clear she wasn't listening to a word I was saying. Suddenly, she cried out.

"Look!" she yelled.

I turned my head to see. There, in the distance, two stallions were rearing side by side. One was dark grey and the other a pearly white. A piercing scream shot through the air as one of the stallions started forward. As the other came too and I was able to see them better, I knew immediately who they were.

"Shifter—run! Get away from here _now_!" But the filly seemed frozen in place. The stallions were moving closer. Finally, when Shifter still hadn't moved, I threw my full weight into her side, causing her to stumble and blink suddenly and take off full speed toward the protection of the herd. I now turned to my challengers.

* * *

The white stallion was closest. The grey stallion behind him uttered another piercing scream. When the stallions were directly in front of me, they stopped.

"Ghost, Magnum," I said with clenched teeth, watching them carefully. They began to walk in a circle around me, each moving in the opposite direction. Ghost spoke first.

"Time to give up your mares, Night Raven," he said, with a sneer in his voice that made my blood boil.

"You and your fantasies," I shot back, never turning my back upon either of them.

"Fantasies? I do not have 'fantasies'. You should know by know that I _always_ get my way in the end." His icy glare rested upon mine.

"And what is your way?"

He stopped and narrowed his eyes at me.

"You know what it is I want." He waited for me to say something, but when I didn't, he continued. "I want the dam of your little troublemaker."

"Wanderer?" I asked unconsciously. "Shifter's mother?"

Ghost continued walking in his menacing way.

"Bright as you are stubborn, eh?"

I snorted.

"And that little one—what was her name—Ruby?" Magnum added.

I glared daggers at him. They were _not_ going to take my Ruby away from me.

"You will not have either of them."

"You're wrong, Raven," Ghost replied with a malicious grin. "We will have what we wish and _you will not stand in our way_!" He lunged for my throat without warning, teeth bared and eyes murderous.


	3. Two Brothers

To this day, I am not sure of how I managed to escape Ghost's sudden attack. Had he latched onto my throat, he would have snapped my neck and I would be dead. And even if he hadn't broken my neck, I would surely have bled to death, and knowing him, he would have gone with me bleeding to death, because he would have been able to herd my mares right past me. I would have been unable to do anything. Yet, I dodged him, and he nearly fell to the ground as he flew past me.

Magnum, on the other hand, raced forward to take me on before I could get a chance at Ghost. These two were brothers, only one season apart, born of the same mare and stallion. Their many times great-grandfather: Indociss; the deadliest known stallion in the west valley. Not a sunrise had passed without the mournful cry of one whom had been lost to this stallion's cold fury. Not a sunset had passed without the shriek of the slaughtered. Even his father, the great Black stallion had lost his band of mares to his own son. Soon after, he had been caught, and since then, no one had heard anything of the Black.

But there was one of whom Indociss could never have matched. It was in the time of the Black, when the red stallion Flame had been first seen. Many a tales followed him, until he escaped his island prison and sired many foals. And I am proud to say, that in my veins runs the blood of that mighty stallion. In my heart lies the strength of him. But I have never shown this strength.

Magnum had barreled forward, catching me off-guard. He plowed into me full force, causing me to flip over a full time before landing with a thud. Ghost was on his feet by now, and siezed my down time quickly. He charged over to me, and dug his right front hoof into my ribs repetitively. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. But something inside of me caused me to get up, and I realized that both Magnum and Ghost were on the ground. I trumpeted in rage and reared as they clambored to their feet. I was _furious_!

Ghost lunged at me again, but I was too quick for him. I then snatched the crest of his neck and whipped my head around, sending him sprawling into me. We fell. I heard a sickening crunch and looked around to see not Ghost, but Magnum, lying on the ground, unmoving. His head lay upon a jagged rock, and there was a pool of thickening red liquid oozing from beneath his head.

Ghost had hit him when we had fallen, and was clearly angry. But just as he was about to take his fury out upon my bloodied blue-roan hide, I felt something tighten around my neck.

With a violent lurch, the both of us were pulled apart from one another. I instinctively pulled against my binds, and found there to be a rope round my and Ghost's neck. A two-legged creature, something I had never seen before, appeared to be examining Magnum's still motionless form.

I heard the one by Magnum call something to the others, and several of them leapt off of their--_horses?_ It was then I realized that the only reason I was being held fast, was because there were two horses with odd-looking equipment keeping the ropes taught. The same was true for Ghost. One of the two-leggeds pulled something out that looked like a long stick, and it made a clicking noise. Then, they put it to Magnum's chest and it made a very loud and frightening noise. He flinched--_he was still alive_. But then--after the noise, he flinched no more.

Now very near panic, both Ghost and I began to struggle more than ever. Ghost was clearly stronger than I was--there were four horses holding him in place, and they were having a difficult time doing so. Neither of us had liked the looks of that noise making stick. I noticed though, that it had left a strip of red in Magnum's deep grey chest. Without warning, i felt something stab into my hindquarters, and screamed in pain and fright. The same was done to Ghost. After another few minutes of struggles, I settled against my will, and allowed myself to be led away, dimly aware of Ghost doing the same.


	4. Realizations

Disclaimer: Neither the Black Stallion or the mighty red Flame are mine. Too bad--well, if fictionpress ever lets me upload anything, maybe my made-up horse Little Red will become just as famous!

Some horse-to-English translations: Large brown thing made of flat trees EQUALS a large wooden train car.

Flat trees EQUALS boards which make up the wooden boxcar.

Previous calmness EQUALS tranquilization.

I don't know how long we followed them. I wasn't even entirely sure what made me follow them in the first place. My back hooves clipped my front ones as I stumbled along. Once or twice, I saw Ghost(who was beside me), fall to his knees. I had never seen him so calm. His eyes were cloudy, and the murderous look they normally possessed was absent from them. I can't say why, but for some reason, that frightened me.

We were loaded into a large brown thing made of flat trees. The ramp was quite steep, and there were other horses inside of it. They had the same strange looking equipment on them as the horses holding my ropes taught. There were unfriendly-looking silver bars in their mouths, and they champed on them and ground their teeth as Ghost and I tripped inside. I was tied next to a dull brown mare, whose ears swept back flat against her head as I turned to look at her. I felt a sharp pinch as her teeth clamped down on my shoulder.

Starting at her grouchiness, I bumped into Ghost, who snapped at me and bumped into the horse next to him. This horse(clearly a mare) squealed loudly and swung her hind end outward. She hit the horse next to _her_, and the shriek of suprise that came from the animal whom I could not see, sounded very familiar. Oh, and in case you hadn't noticed, both Ghost and I were coming out of our previous calmness.

I saw a flash of gold when the mare moved back to her original position.

"Shifter?" I called softly, somewhat reluctantly.

"Raven?" came the response. I almost wished I hadn't called her name. What was she doing here? I thought she had gone back to the herd.

"Raven--they took Ruby--she's not here, but they took her!"

My eyes widened in what you may as well call fear.

"But--How did they find the herd?" I asked, still slightly groggy.

"They followed me--when I realized they were, I turned away from the herd, but some went towards them anyway," she replied.

I must say, I admired the fact that the youngest and most troublesome filly had thought to lead the chase in the opposite direction. I'm not even sure that I would have thought of that. I said no more, as the two leggeds pushed the ramp upward, closing off our only source of light--and our only chance of escape. I knew that I could easily break the ropes holding me, but now, there was no reason to even attempt.

A moment later, the darkness filled with screeching sounds and we all stumbled as the room lurched suddenly. I heard little Shifter cry out; one of the horses beside her had stepped on her. Ghost was only just visible in the almost total darkness. The thin cracks between the flat trees allowed the tiniest amount of light in, which reflected off his silvery coat. I stepped away from him, as I could see his ears were back and his hind foot was cocked, ready to kick me if I bumped into him again. My only reward for attempting to be polite, was another hard pinch and squeal from the dull brown mare.


	5. Arrival

Some time later, the screeching sounds came again, and the room stopped vibrating. We had stopped, making some of the less alert horses stumble again. I had quickly realized that by splaying my feet out, I could brace myself and stand comfortably still; Ghost had done the same. Little Shifter had been dozing for most of the trip, and I would have been doing the same had the dull brown mare not insisted on snapping at me every so often.

I heard noises from outside the room, shouting at others about something or other. Eventually, the ramp was lowered and light flooded the once dark room. I craned my head around as far as I could with the rope's restraining length, trying to see what was going on. Two-leggeds were swarming around the room in no time, untying the horses with equipment on them first. I watched with both fear and interest as they led them down the ramp and outside.

Finally, a couple two-leggeds came to untie me, and I decided I had better not fight until I was out of the room and on solid, unmoving ground. It was awkward walking down the steep ramp; I hadn't had this much trouble going up it. My hooves slid, as the ramp was damp now. The air was colder, and I imagined it must have become damp due to the warmth of the room. I was more than happy when I stepped off the ramp, and went in a circle around my two-legged, so I could see the commotion that was coming from inside the room.

Ghost was acting up.

You would think he would have been smart enough to wait until he was outside to fight, as I had done...or, was going to do. I was much more interested to see what the two-leggeds would do in response to his actions. There were two handlers on him already, and two more scurried up the ramp a moment later, one of them carrying a long stick with a rope on the end. The one without the stick grabbed onto a rope that was swinging freely from the horse, and the one with the stick approached Ghost.

He raised the stick, and lowered it quickly across the silver stallion's rump. A loud crack came as it hit his flesh, and Ghost stopped moving for only the briefest of moments. He then reared as high on his hind legs as the room would permit, and spun around, kicking one of them two-leggeds directly in the stomach. The two-legged was launched backward into the side of the room, and Ghost charged down the ramp, dragging the other two still holding onto the ropes with him.

The one with the stick again slashed him across the rump, and again the crack sounded. Ghost screamed in rage, rearing on his hind legs again and lifting the two-leggeds with the ropes into the air. He came down, and then went straight up again. And again, the stick-two-legged brought the stick down upon him, this time on his shoulder. Ghost must have decided it was time to give up on the rope-holders, because he suddenly turned on the stick-two-legged with flattened ears and an open mouth.

Just as he was about to sink his teeth into the two-legged's shoulder, it brought the stick down viciously upon Ghost's face, repetitively. After several beatings, the silver stallion finally subsided in his sheer fury. His head lowered, and he followed dociley as the two-leggeds led him past me; he was bleeding from many a places.

I would never see Ghost again.


End file.
